Free Italian Knights by Sharon DeVita Page B

another outburst. “David seemed to think you were in dire need of—”
    “That’s enough,” she cried in alarm, covering her ears in fear that he would tell her, specifically, what she didn’t want to hear.
    “Ah, Annie, don’t tell me you’re mad at me again?” He cocked his head to look at her, his eyes once again going over her features.
    She looked into his eyes and felt her stomach drop. Watch yourself, Annie , she cautioned, knowing she was feeling particularly vulnerable now. She didn’t know if it was his kiss, or the evening’s events, but she was feeling things she shouldn’t be feeling.
    “Sal, look, I know you don’t like the idea of me dating again. But I can’t lean on you the rest of my life. Sooner or later you’re—” He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek. Wide-eyed, she stared at him, mesmerized by his touch. At the moment, the idea of Annie leaning on him for the rest of her life sounded wonderful.
    At the moment she couldn’t think of one solid reason why she couldn’t lean on him—forever. The thought was comforting, easing some of her fears. Annie mentally shook the thoughts away. She would think of several good reasons as soon as she’d collected her wits, a difficult task with him so near.
    “If I’m not complaining,” he added, “I don’t see why you should be.”
    No, Sal would never complain. In his mind, what he was doing for her was all wrapped up in his sense of honor and loyalty—admirable qualities, but certainly no reason to take advantage of him. She cared about him too much for that. And until tonight, when he’d kissed her, she hadn’t realized how her feelings for Sal had changed. What she was feeling for him now had nothing to do with friendship, and it frightened her.
    “Maybe you’re not complaining right now, but what about in the future? Sooner or later one of those buxom blondes is going to catch you. Then what?”
    “I don’t like buxom blondes,” he whispered, gently stroking her cheek.
    She wasn’t going to tie Sal to her out of some far-fetched, old-world notion of honor. “I know you feel a certain amount of obligation, but—”
    “You think I’m with you now because of some…obligation?” he growled, letting his temper overrule his tongue.
    She laughed, the sound thin and harsh. “Of course. Why else? I know you feel a great sense of loyalty to Tony.”
    “Loyalty has nothing to do with it,” he corrected. His gaze dropped to her generous mouth, which was softly parted. As if to prove her a liar, Sal dipped his head, slowly brushing his lips across hers. Annie’s eyes widened for a split second before her lashes lowered and she greedily accepted what he offered. Her senses reeled as his mouth fiercely coaxed a response from her.
    He knew her so well. She couldn’t hide anything from him, not even her deepest feelings or thoughts. He slowly withdrew his lips, his eyes holding hers.
    Sal slid his hands to her throat and her eyes closed. He touched the pulse point in her neck, and Annie’s breath fled. Her body quivered as he gently caressed her throat. Sal bent and slowly brushed his mouth over hers again, tracing the tender sweetness of her lips with his tongue.
    Her pulse went wild at Sal’s touch. Sighing with pleasure, she wound her arms around his neck and clung to him as his mouth gently nuzzled her lips. His mouth took hers, possessively, intimately, exploring its honeyed sweetness. There wasn’t anything friendly or obligatory about his kiss. It was purely possessive and male, arousing her own feminine instincts in response.
    Slowly Sal drew his lips free, resting his forehead against hers, overcome with feelings and emotions. He wanted to keep her safe, and away from anything and anyone that could ever hurt her. “What you need,” Sal whispered, hoping he could carry this off, “is a chaperone.”
    Annie blinked. Chaperone? She stared at him in dumb silence. She’d heard the word, she just didn’t quite believe it.